


The Potions Professor

by selwynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Professors, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fantasizing, Girl Penis, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hogwarts Library, Horny Teenagers, Horny hermione, Library Sex, Lust at First Sight, Male-Female Friendship, Masturbation, Potions, Potions Class (Harry Potter), Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Professor Tom, Professor Tom Riddle, Professors, Public Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Teacher Tom Riddle, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, potions professor tom riddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23271961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selwynn/pseuds/selwynn
Summary: Hermione Granger's year has been off to an... interesting start. She's coming off a summer of uncertainty, and is shocked when she finds out that Snape has received the Defense Against the Dark position. However, the moment Professor Riddle is introduced to the school, Hermione finds she can't stop thinking about him. She can hardly focus in class due to her horniness... will Hermione be able to get some extra help from her professor?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 9
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hermione is seriously hot for her teacher, Professor Riddle. She can't stop thinking about him and getting off to thinking about him. She can hardly concentrate in class, or on her work. She gets so horny working on her Potions essay that she can't help but touch herself in the library. But little does she know who was watching her from the Restricted Section...

Hermione ruffled her hand through her frizzy hair, letting out a dramatic sigh. Unfortunately, even a sigh was cause for a sharp look to be sent her way from Madam Pince. The librarian let out a tsk and she looked meaningfully at the brunette from over the top of her glasses. The bookworm took that as a cue to move; Madam Pince must have been in a bad mood. Hermione wandered around the shelves until she found a far more isolated study area, one that she had discovered in her second year before she was paralyzed by the Basilisk. It was at a table far away from the entrance to the library, and by proxy from Madam Pince’s tutting and terse admonishments. Hermione had a few too many reasons to sigh at the moment; the last thing she needed was to add pissing off the librarian to that list. 

Chief among Hermione’s sigh-able concerns was her current Potions paper. Well, her angst wasn’t entirely about the paper. It was only a summary of counter-jinxes, after all, nothing too complicated. The new Potions professor (and boy, everyone was shocked that Potions was not being taught by Snape), although demanding and harsh, was showing a small kindness in starting the year by giving the students review work and a chance to refamiliarize themselves with potions minutia after a long summer away. This was a different approach than students had come to expect, but a positive change in Hermione’s book. Snape’s teaching method, though surprisingly effective given the dour man’s apparent hatred for teaching, was somewhat light on theory. The theory was something that his brightest students were able to pick up simply by repeated exposure to different brews and ingredient preparation techniques. However, Snape’s practical-heavy classroom style did leave gaps for those who didn’t naturally make the high-level connections, or those, like poor Neville who were simply too scared by the professor lurking in order to be able to apply any connection they might make.

A review of common ingredient properties and cauldron procedures was very much in Hermione’s wheelhouse. Indeed, it was the type of assignment that Hermione would have normally flown through; it should have involved only light research, taking into account her excellent memory and her drive to self-study in previous years. Except Hermione hadn’t been feeling quite normal for some time. She had been feeling rather… off… since the moment the sorting finished at the start-of-term Feast.

* * *

_ Hermione was shaking her head exasperatedly as Ron was talking a mile a minute. at Harry (and her, she supposed, but given his speed of speech it was hard to tell). _

_ “Oi, mate, Bill was able to take me to see a Cannons practice, not quite the same as a game, mind, but it gave me some ideas for Keeping drills I could practice before tryouts this year, yeah? And…” _

_ When the redhead slipped into Quidditch talk, Hermione felt her attention wander. She tried her best to show up to House games in order to support Harry, but even despite getting on (and, ok, getting it on) with Viktor, Hermione just didn’t have a desire to learn or talk about the sport. It was dangerous, somewhat senseless, and although the flying maneuvers were impressive, Hermione could care less about who just signed with the Chudley Cannons or whether the Wimbourne Wasps could win the League. _

_ Further down the table, towards where the professors sat, she could see Fred and George and Lee all laughing and whispering. The trio suddenly straightened, turning to stare at the head table with patently innocent expressions on their faces. Hermione followed their gazes and noted that Professor McGonagall was now shaking her head at them slowly.  _

_ The doors of the Great Hall were flung open, and that was enough to somewhat quiet the students’ chatter, leaving only rolling whispers filling the grand space. It seemed Professor Snape had drawn the short straw and had been forced to retrieve the first years from the front hall. Hermione would have laughed if she wasn’t also worried about the first-years being traumatized beyond the appearance of the House ghosts. The hook-nosed professor seemed to shudder as he walked alongside the children, towering over them. Hermione, no Legilimens, was pretty sure she knew what he was thinking. It probably involved the words “brats”, “irreverent”, and “sticky”. He paused and spoke lowly to the throng of first years, before gliding up to the head table in a billow of black cloth. Hagrid peeled away from his spot at the back of the pack of eleven-year-olds, his job herding the new students complete. _

_ Her attention somewhat divided by Harry and Ron’s chatting, Hermione observed the first-years. They were short, and some of them were pale and nervously shifting their weight as they stood in single file, waiting their turn to be sorted. She clapped and cheered raucously with her Housemates whenever they welcomed a new Lion, unable to really get in the proper spirit when Harry and Ron were whispering about Voldemort’s return and the Order and when they might be allowed to attend meetings.  _

_ She did manage to focus when Dumbledore finally stood, clearing his throat. He beamed as he stared out over the student population. _

_ “Before we begin our first meal back together, I have an introduction to make.” _

_ He paused. _

_ “I would like to introduce your new Potions professor…”  _

_ The entire hall exploded, staring between Snape and Dumbledore. _

_ “Blimey, mate! Is the old bat finally quitting? ” Ron erupted. _

_ “We can only dream, mate,” Harry whispered back. _

_ Dumbledore coughed again. _

_ “Professor Thomas Riddle!” _

_ A tall, thin man came from the door behind the head table, dressed in a smartly cut emerald robe. Hermione felt her draw drop despite herself. _

_ The new professor was, simply put, hot as hell. He was all angles, sporting prominent cheekbones and a sharp jawline. His hair wasn’t extremely long, but it fell in slight waves over his forehead. _

_ His eyes were what really did Hermione in. They were brown, but the opposite of warm. They were predatory, harsh. Powerful. _

_ Hermione felt her knickers start to dampen. Unconsciously, her legs crossed a little tighter.  _

_ “Hello everyone,” began Professor Riddle. “I am pleased to be teaching Potions at this distinguished institution. I am hoping to be able to share with you my knowledge and experience gained from my mastery which I completed recently at Ilvermorny under Master Grinnauld Smith.”  _

_ His fucking voice. It was smooth, somehow sibilant, and downright sinful. Hermione felt like there was a faucet in her panties; she was dripping. She tried to think very, very unsexy thoughts.  _

_ Hermione heard, rather than processed, Dumbledore congratulating Snape on accepting the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. Her head was swimming with thoughts of her new professor. Her young, hot new professor. Her young, hot, well-spoken new professor. God damn it. _

_ That night, Hermione had begged off too much socializing, feigning a headache, and had gone through her nightly routine on autopilot, rushing. She threw herself into her four-poster and after a strangled “good night” to her dormmates, she cast three different silencing spells on her bed’s curtains as well as spelling them closed.  _

_ Hermione’s fingers dove into her knickers. She ran her fingers along her dripping slit, marvelling at the liquid gushing out of herself. She dipped a few fingers in and out of her cunt, already imagining them being the professor’s slim ones.  _

_ Professor. _

_ Hermione brought her other hand down to circle her clit with tantalizingly light pressure. _

_ Thomas. _

_ Hermione slipped another finger inside herself. _

_ Riddle. _

_ Hermione moaned loudly as she came, body going limp. She removed her hand from inside herself and wiped her juices on her nightgown, too boneless to get up and rinse her hands. _

* * *

  
  


Even after moving to a quieter corner of the library, back by the Restricted Section, Hermione couldn’t concentrate. It was all she could do to focus on  _ not _ focusing on her Professor while she was actively in Potions class. At least in class, she could dedicate herself to brewing, to precisely slicing and chopping and juicing and stirring. She could focus on house points and on beating Slytherin in the House Cup and  _ not _ think about the way a pleasant thrill ran through her lower body every time Professor Riddle said “Very good, Hermione. Five points to Gryffindor.”

Alone in the library with just her thoughts, Hermione was a goner. She flopped over her half-finished essay, unable to concentrate on explaining why the process of making hellbore into syrup increased its efficacy when all she could think about was effing Professor Riddle.

Hermione glanced around the library. It really was empty in her corner. The only people who would come this way were probably professors; the entrance to the Restricted Sections she was at led to books that contained mostly information about historical teaching practices (well, and torture practices), not something students usually concerned themselves with.

She could feel herself dripping, her clit throbbing with a need to be touched. She kept thinking about that day’s Potions class, and the way Professor Riddle had helped correct her potion. She thought about his hands and their long fingers wrapped around her wrist as he guided her through a complex stirring pattern. She thought about the way he had leaned over her, and how she could feel his thighs brushing against her back, and how she could only think about the way his package also felt against her back, and his warm breath near the top of her head, and his musk… 

God, she had literally left a wet spot on her chair when she got up to turn her final potion in at the end of class. She had soaked through her woolen robe. 

Hermione tried to fight her instincts, knowing that she was in public, that she was in the  _ library _ , for Christ’s sake. But her body had other ideas. It started to rock on her chair, grinding itself into the seat cushion in an almost humping manner.

Hermione took another look around before she decided, fuck it.

She slouched down a little in her seat, reaching up under her robes and spreading her legs wide to give herself plenty of access. She pulled her knickers down to her knees, knowing that they would only get messy and in the way but loathe to remove them entirely in case she needed to make an emergency getaway.

Even as Hermione began to furiously rub her clit, a part of her was panicking.  _ Someone could see me. What if I am caught _ ? 

The rule-following voice in her head was freaking out. But another darker part of her just egged her on. The idea of getting caught masturbating in public was a huge turn on for the brown-haired witch.

She thrust her fingers in and out of her pussy, her wetness making them slide with ease. She couldn’t help letting out a few mewls and moans as she imagined Professor Riddle pushing his dick into her from behind in the Potions room. 

“Professor Riddle,” she moaned.

Eventually, her pleasure reached a peak, and Hermione came, clenching around her fingers. She cast a quick Scourgify on her hands and then wriggled her knickers back over her hips, feeling the damp fabric slide back over her wet pussy lips. 

Hermione gathered up her potions papers into her satchel quickly. She wasn’t going to get anything more done in the library, that was for sure. 

So hasty was her getaway that Hermione didn’t notice cold brown eyes following her from the Restricted section, focused intently on the way her plump, perky ass bounced as she disappeared around a shelf of books. Those eyes were found in a thin, muscular body; they were attached to a young Potions professor with a throbbing cock that was tenting his tailored robes most impressively. The professor took a steadying breath, but all he could smell was his student’s juices. He threw down the book he was carrying, leaving it lying on the floor as he stalked off to his quarters as fast as humanly possible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is finally satisfied by Professor Riddle outside of her fantasies. She gets some much-needed masturbation education.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little shorter than last chapter, but short and sweet, am I right?

Hermione had seriously contemplated pretending to be ill and going to the Hospital Wing

instead of going to Potions. It wasn’t that she wanted to avoid Professor Riddle: quite the opposite. She was afraid that if she walked into that Potions classroom and heard his smooth voice, she might not be able to control herself.

Even fears of jumping her teacher in front of all of her classmates weren’t enough to keep Hermione Granger from descending the staircase into the dungeons. She was a Gryffindor, after all. Plus, she didn’t trust Harry or Ron to take appropriate notes in her absence. Hermione pretended to ignore the way her body and hands started trembling as she grasped the doorknob. She shuffled to her seat quickly, head down.

“Good morning, class,” greeted Professor Riddle. Hermione could not allow herself to initiate eye contact. She could already feel the heat pooling inside her, low in her belly. 

“Today is going to be strictly theoretical learning, now that we’ve completed our review work summarizing your past learning. I want to give you an introduction to OWL-level potions and also give you some warnings  _ ahead _ of letting you take out your cauldrons and play.”

The way Professor Riddle said  _ play _ was absolutely sinful. Hermione crossed her legs.

“I would like you all to get out a quill and some parchment… in addition to my lecture I will be drawing a few diagrams for you all.”

With growing panic (missed with excitement), Hermione realized that she would need to look up in order to take notes. She would have to look at the board, and the tall, angular professor lecturing beside it. She steeled herself.

Professor Riddle seemed to be staring at her when she finally lifted her gaze, his eyes dark and almost predatory. Hermione bit down on the end of her quill so that she didn’t let a moan out. She had to flick her eyes back down toward her parchment; because of this, the brunette didn’t notice the way her professor stepped back behind his desk, turning towards the board ostensibly to write but also to adjust his dick, which had begun to strain against the pants he wore under his robes.

Hermione was on autopilot. Her body was still dutifully copying down notes from the board, labelling the diagrams neatly and jotting down vocab words and suggested additional reading. But her mind was far away- well, somewhat nearby. Her mind was picturing all the naughty things she would do with Professor Riddle.

She almost didn’t notice when the lecture ended, except that the students around her started rushing to back up their belongings; her peers started chattering loudly, shaking her out of her stupor. Their loud footsteps echoed down the stone hallways as they all rushed off to the Great Hall for lunch. Hermione slowly started to move again, grasping her parchment in order to tuck it away. She was stopped by a voice.

“Miss Granger, a word in my office.”

Professor Riddle seemed to purr. Hermione knew that she should protest. She would only embarrass herself by flirting with her professor, after all. But the heat between her legs had been building all class, and she needed relief.

“Yes, professor,” she choked out, aware of how breathy she sounded. Her cheeks reddened as she followed the man through the door in his classroom. Her heart pounded as she followed him into the small office, and she thought it would jump out of her chest when the professor casually flicked his wand at the door, spelling it closed. He sat down behind his desk and Hermione took the seat across from him.

“Miss Granger, I’ve been worried about you,” he began. “You began the year as an intensely engaged student, but I’ve noticed you becoming more withdrawn and looking paler recently. Are you alright?”

Hermione couldn’t let herself open her mouth. She knew if she did she could never take it back.

“Please, Miss Granger,” rebuked the professor almost tenderly.

Hermione heard the sound of swishing robes, but wasn’t prepared for Professor Riddle to reach out and tuck his hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. It was enough to undo Hermione. She summoned the shreds of Gryffindor courage she had left.

“Well, Professor…”

She took a deep breath.

“I’ve been so horny, professor. Every waking hour. And nothing I do seems to make it stop.”

Instead of reacting with loud judgment and exclamations, Professor Riddle looked pensieve. Hermione couldn’t see the way he reached his hand under the desk to rub his throbbing cock.

“Have you tried masturbating, Miss Granger?” he asked gently.

The way he said  _ Miss _ made Hermione’s pussy leak a little.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “But it never seems like enough.”

“Miss Granger, you are a Muggleborn, correct?”

She nodded.

“Well, wizard children are brought up with masturbation lessons so that they can sate their urges without tainting their bloodline. I’m guessing that’s something you never had,” said the professor.

Hermione nodded her head.

“I need help, professor,” she begged.

“Why don’t you… show me how you normally do it?” he asked. Hermione didn’t need him to say it twice- she was unspeakably wet. She hiked up her robes above her hips, exposing her slightly hairy and glistening pussy. Her fingers found her clit almost immediately. She treated herself to some light circles.

“Well, first, Professor, I play with my clit a little bit. It feels so good, you know.” She let out a little moan. “And once I get nice and wet I start adding some fingers like this.” Hermione plunged some fingers in and out of herself. Her body screamed in ecstasy at the penetration; Hermione finally started directly at her Professor.

He had stood up from his seat, his height allowing him to have an amazing view down toward her dripping pussy. He had opened up his robes and whipped out his dick, and was slowly pumping his shaft.

“That seems like a good start, Miss Granger. We men usually like to touch our dicks like this,” he demonstrated. Hermione watched as his hand worked his massive cock.

“Have you ever tried to touch your G-spot, Miss Granger?”

“No, sir,” she moaned. “My fingers are too short.”

The professor moved from his spot behind the desk.

“Perhaps I can help you with that.”

He drew beside her and Hermione gasped at the feel of cool, foreign fingers near her slit. Gently, Professor Riddle nudged her hand away from her most private area. His long fingers danced around her clit.

“Professor,” she gasped. He seemed to take that as sign: he plunged two of his fingers into her gushing pussy, sheathing them entirely. Hermione’s eyes rolled back into her head as Professor Riddle worked his long, thin fingers in and out of her tight snatch.

“This is what it feels like to have your g-spot hit,” the Professor told her, almost clinically, although his other hand was busy fisting his cock.

Hermione couldn’t stop moaning as her pussy walls tightened around Riddle’s fingers. She began to squirt all over the Professor.

“OH! Professor” screamed Hermione. Her breathing was intense.

Professor Riddle pulled his fingers out of her slit, and roughly gave her clit a rub. Hermione let out a mixture of a scream and a moan at the overstimulation. He drew his long, thin fingers up to his mouth and stuck the tips in his mouth, sucking.

“Sweet girl. So you’re a squirter. You squirted your pussy juices all over my robes and pants, you know. Naughty, messy girl.”

Hermione looked at her Professor again.

“Let me make it up to you, Professor,” she said, sinking to her knees in front of her Professor’s massive cock. She didn’t let herself get nervous, despite never having seen a cock so big.

She popped the tip of his member into her mouth, suckling on his large cockhead, swirling her tongue around it. Slowly, she worked her way deeper, using her hand to rub up and down the parts of his shaft that her mouth just couldn’t take.

Professor Riddle moaned and Hermione felt a rush of pride.

“Miss Granger,” he whispered. His smile turned predatory.

“Naughty girls need to be punished.”

Suddenly, the professor grabbed her head started pounding into her mouth, treating Hermione like she was nothing more than a sex toy. She wasn’t expecting the sudden intensity, and she felt like she could barely breathe. She gagged a little around the professor’s cock, barely able to do more than fondle the professor’s balls as he had his way with her mouth.

He was grunting loudly.

“I’m going to cum now, Miss Granger. And you’re going to swallow it all up.”

With a last groan, his cock started to twitch in her mouth, shooting out thick ropes of salty cum. Hermione strained to swallow fast enough, but she was determined (and able) to gulp down all of her Professor’s seed. He withdrew his cock from her mouth. She looked up at him uncertainly from her place on her knees.

“Well, Miss Granger, was that enough?” he asked, smirking.

“Yes, sir. Except now that I’ve finally had it like this I don’t know how I can go back.”

His brown eyes glinted.

“I suppose I could give you some additional lessons.”

Hermione felt herself start to get wet again.

“Please, sir.”


End file.
